Monday, November 16, 2015

"Lithium" by Noelle Kocot


I have my finger on the pulse of something.
My mind is a sea that eats me,
The fidgety harmony of two trains passing.
A car bathes in its own blueness,
The moon is a yolk that beyolks us,
While I am daring to fault the ergonomics of destiny.
And the helpless word propels itself through the inkjets,
The word that dashes itself against the rocks like an actor.

And affliction cannot speak to non-affliction,
Counting its wounds on the abacus of time.
I know what it is to mourn,
And to breathe bliss into the wormhole of the senses,
And that I must disabuse myself of the lion’s share of who-knows-where
And the whirring of new grasses on the rainy side of spring.

Source of the text - Noelle Kocot, Poem for the End of Time.  Seattle: Wave Books, 2006.

TJB: Lithium=liminal. Paratactic, sonnety nonsequiturs abound here, each a highly interesting, nerdy-beautiful metaphor. Great rhyme on destiny.

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